


No Return

by andjudar



Category: 300 (2006)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7857298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andjudar/pseuds/andjudar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>300 - set before, in and after the movie, this little story gives a little insight into the characters of Dilios and Astinos and the one person who is the connecting link between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** No Return **

 

 

**~ Prologue ~**

“I am not going to ask you to stay. I know you have to go.” The girl, merely seventeen years old, tilted her head not to let him see the sadness. She tried to fight the shiver in her voice and to hide it, she cleared her throat and brushed back her long dark brown hair. The man who stood before her breathed in heavily.

“I won’t hold you back.” The girl continued when he didn’t say anything. “But know this…I’ll wait for your return…” Her green eyes had turned almost black and he was sure that there were tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

“Delena! Please, don’t…” Astinos now whispered and pulled her close. “Don’t cry, please.” He wiped away the tears that ran down her face. Spartan women were used to hardship as they were used to losing those they loved. Spartan woman had to give away their sons at the age of seven and only few ever returned. Those few then became soldiers, warriors, the King’s guard. But this obvious confession of love was more than Astinos could take. “I will come back to you, my love. I promise.” But in his eyes she saw that although he meant it with all his heart, he was certain that there was no returning from this mission. 300 men would go out to fight ten thousands of Persians, to save the glorious city of Sparta, to save the people. And Astinos, the young Spartan soldier, would go to fight to save her, that beautiful girl Delena that stood before him.

He had heard the rumours about what the Persians did with the people from Marathon, as had the others. He had heard of the cruelty, of the slavery, of the deaths. And that was no fate he wished to come upon his family or his love. He held her close, her face was warm against his chest and while she sighed, he put one hand against her cheek, his fingers softly toying with her brown hair. She had closed her eyes while she breathed against his skin, taking in the scent and the joy of being together with him. They had too few moments together, that both realized now. There had never been enough time.                       

The 300 men the King had assembled were all brave warriors, and all had sons so that their family names could continue even after their death. Artemis, captain and father of Astinos, had allowed his son to join, for he himself had other sons to carry on his name but Astinos now wondered if he would ever sire children of his own. He studied the line of men as though they were suddenly discovered family. In a way, they were. They would be together, fighting, dying and sometimes even family did not breed any greater closeness than a company of soldiers – or greater contempt. He wanted to please his father, to show the great captain that he was a worthy Spartan warrior as well. And he also admired Dilios who readily went to certain death even though there would be no one left to look after his children except his eldest daughter Delena whom he – Astinos – loved so fiercely.

His red coat fluttered in the upcoming wind and Delena could not suppress the connotation of blood spluttering over dead bodies. As if to say goodbye forever, Astinos raised one hand before being dragged away by his friend Stelios. They moved slowly through the corn field and the sky darkened with regret and sorrow. She watched King Leonidas say farewell to his Queen, Gorgo, and to his son. Delena saw the pain clearly written on their faces and knew that it matched her own pain. But the fierce warrior that he was, Leonidas did not look back again. He passed his men and fell into place beside Artemis, his captain. With one hand over her belly, Delena waved one hand in a single gesture in the dying sun when Astinos turned to look back one last time. She saw his eyes widen in a moment of understanding. She would bear his child, she carried him inside of her, forever. Then they were out of sight. The dust slowly settled, as did the sun.

Delena looked down at her hand which she still held across her middle. For a moment she remembered the last kiss, the last touch, the last moment she had spent with Astinos. She already felt the change inside her, but for both her own and the unborn child’s sake, she silently prayed that it would not be a girl so that she would not have to suffer from the loss of a love or husband before their time. She prayed that it would be a son, a strong boy who would avenge the possible fate of his father.

She would have to be strong now, just like the Queen. She would have to be strong and never abandon hope, although she knew that hope was forsaken in these lands. But she loved, and that gave her hope.


	2. I

**I**

 

For an instant, Delena could see the day of their first meeting. The king’s guard, led by their captain, Astinos’ father, were on a procession through the city of Sparta, introducing their newest member. Artemis was so proud that his first born son had been accepted into this deadly squad of warriors. Each of them had successfully completed the agoge, and only few of those who were put through it survived. The aim of the agoge was to physically and morally steel the men to serve in the Spartan army, men who would be the walls of Sparta since there were no defensive walls. Lycurgus had given the order to have them taken down many centuries ago.

This new one, a handsome but strong young man, had just completed the krypteia, the patrolling of the helot land plots with only a spear or knife as protection. Only those who survived it were given high standing in the army and potentially became a part of the three hundred knights. They were Sparta’s finest soldiers, ready to give everything for their king and country. And now there was one fine man more. Delena had accompanied her father, Dilios, and now stood on the side when the men passed. Dilios, as he always did, gave a little nod when he walked past his daughter which made her smile. And next to her father there walked a shy, brown haired man, broad shouldered, his dark brown eyes carefully examining the surroundings. And when Dilios greeted his daughter, that young man turned and looked at the woman his comrade was greeting. Delena smiled warmly at the stranger and he smiled back. His eyes lit up when their gazes locked and the young woman suddenly felt a strange attraction towards him.

This night, Dilios brought the young man and his father, Captain Artemis, home with him.

“Daughter, prepare something to eat. The Captain and his son will join us today.” He said with a laugh when they came through the doorway. Delena knew Artemis well, but she had never seen his son before today’s procession through Sparta.

She bowed to both, her hands grasping the sleeves of her peblos, the exercise robe which was open on both sides. “Captain, welcome! And welcome to you.” She smiled at the young man and then turned and headed to the kitchen room. She did not dare to make her look at the captain’s son last longer than appropriate but she saw that the young man smiled a little and bowed as well. His red coat fell to both sides of his muscular body and when he straightened upright, Delena thought to see a blush on his face.

When she returned some time later with a decanter of wine, Artemis stood up. “This is Astinos, my first-born. I’m proud of him that he finally got chosen to be a part of Spartans finest army.”

While Astinos shook his head embarrassed, the captain embraced his son. That was a nice gesture, Delena thought. To her mind, it was always a good thing when the sons returned from the krypteia alive and not crippled. She moved a little closer, nodded her head towards the young man and lifted the heavy decanter made of marbled clay to refill the empty cups of the three men. Astinos hurried to help her and the girl could not help wondering. Mostly, the Spartan men were kind but did not get involved in the household chores or the business of raising children. Delena was not shy, but she knew when to restrain herself. She had learned reserve and formality from her father early in her life. She had been trained as was appropriate in Sparta, she had received an education involving dance, gymnastics and other sports. Similar to the agoge that the Spartan boys had to go through, the girls were put through this training to bear healthy and vigorous children and still be graceful creatures. But even though Spartan women were strong and powerful, Delena knew when it was better to leave men to their talk without interrupting. Like a beautiful shadow she moved, filling the cups, bringing more cushions. Dilios was proud of how devout his daughter was and said so to the captain. When she walked past with the decanter, Artemis alleged that she would give birth to many strong and fearless sons. With a delighted smile, Delena bowed, thankful for the acknowledgement. She cast a shy glance at the young Spartan who sat to his father’s right, and noticed that he was staring at her. Careful that none of the older men noticed, she returned the smile she saw on his face.

Then she left again for the kitchen and began to prepare the meals, she heard the men laughing in the main room. When she remembered the shy glance from Astinos, she had to smile. The girl went to the anteroom to get the salted meat, lamb, and olives. Then she mashed wheat and mixed it with water to make fresh bread. She heated oil in a pan and fried the dough until it was of a golden brown colour. The aroma was carried out of the kitchen into the other room from where she could hear the men calling for the delicious food. It took her a few more minutes to arrange the food on the platters and then catch her breath. The presence of the stranger was almost unbearable but at the same time pleasing. For the first time, she was confused by her own feelings.

“Daughter! What takes you so long? We are starving!” she heard her father’s impatient voice. “Bring on the food.”

Quickly, Delena brought out the tray and placed it on front of her father. It was customary for the man of the house to break the bread and share the meat. With a nod of his head, he handed some of the still warm bread first to Artemis and then to Astinos. Both men took it with great gratitude and then also offered their gratitude to Delena. She smiled and then retreated with a bow to bring more wine. Even though Spartan women were allowed to eat and drink in the company of men, even soldiers, she never did. She never wanted to.

It was only a few days later when they met again. Delena had just finished the daily training routine at the dancing halls near the king’s quarters and walked past the main road when she saw the young man talking to a few of the others. Stelios, one of the King’s best men next to the captain, brushed back his long light brown hair and gave Astinos a nudge to the ribs. Delena blushed when both men turned. So Astinos must have told Stelios that he had visited her father’s house the other night, or it must have been his father’s doing that Stelios knew about her. Of course, because of her father Dilios, Delena knew most of the other men and they knew her. She kept walking until she saw her youngest brother Demian playing with his friends in front of the white house in which the chamber of council was. They had wooden swords and pretended to fight each other in a hard battle. Hopefully, the old and wise men weren’t in a meeting right now. She knew that they hated any kind of disturbance and interruption.

Suddenly, she heard footfalls behind her and the children stopped playing and stood dumbfounded and wide-eyed. Delena turned and looked into friendly brown eyes in a soft face framed by long black hair. Astinos smiled. Demian, being bold in front of his friends, dashed forward with his wooden sword raised high as if to defend his sister. Delena tried to catch him but he was too fast and just wouldn’t listen to his sister’s breathless words.

Astinos smiled again and waved one hand. “Let him have his try…” he said and unsheathed his own sword which was by far longer, broader and sharper than Demian’s sword made of wood. The boy hesitated. Demian was only 6 years old and would be taken into the agoge on his seventh birthday next year. For that, Dilios had sent him to an early training that might save his life during the krypteia, the time in the wilderness, and also trained him at home, as was custom in Sparta.

With another motion of his hand, Astinos made the boy come closer and fall into combat stance. The other boys still stood awe-struck on the marble steps of the council chamber. But then, after a few moments of silence, all of the young boys there began to yell “Attack!” and Demian shot forward. From what Delena could see, he fought just like her father. The same movements, the same posture, the same way of holding and handling the weapon.

Wood struck upon metal, one light blow followed by a heavy one. The force of Astinos blow pushed the boy back and Demian fell to the ground with the sword still in his hand.

“Fight with your head and heart and not only with the strength of your arm.” Astinos advised him. “You are strong and bold, my friend!” The boy blushed and smiled a little before he ran back to Delena to hide behind the folds of her peblos robe.

When Astinos came closer, Delena bowed. “I’m sorry, my lord. My brother is young and inexperienced. And sometimes, he can be quite a nuisance.”

Astinos smiled again. “He is a good fighter. He will make a strong warrior.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She bowed again and then turned to go. Demian had already taken off with his friends. Obviously, the noise of the playing and the little fight with Astinos had drawn out a few of the councilmen who were now complaining about the distraction. With a demure gesture, Delena bowed and drew back. She knew that the old men would not do anything because they were proud of the Spartan children. But one man, middle aged with a robe made of white and blue to indicate his high status, seemed to feel very offended by what was going on outside. His face was hard and his brown eyes were cruel and Delena didn’t like the way he looked at her. Then she felt Astinos putting his hand on her shoulder as if to protect her from the frightening glances of that man, Theron, the spokesman of the council. He would not have dared to speak up in front of the councilmen, but his mere presence as one of the King’s guard was enough in this situation. Theron turned away with his fellow councilmen and disappeared into the shadows of the council chamber.

Delena turned around and looked into Astinos’ brown eyes. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“I am sorry, my Lady. I know your father does not like Theron, the councilman, much, as does my own father. I did not mean to interfere.”

Delena smiled a little and inclined her head. “There is nothing to forgive. My father told us to stay away from the council chamber but as you can see, the boys never want to listen. They get themselves in trouble all the time.”

“They are the future of Sparta!” Astinos said proudly, but at the same time he had to admit that he suddenly felt as if something was missing. He knew that his father had had his first son, Astinos himself, at his age now. He also knew that Stelios, his best friend, already had two strong sons, and Stelios was only a couple of years older. It was common to have children at an early age, as was marriage after the krypteia, which was stressed highly in the Spartan society. But nonetheless, a Spartan man’s life was entirely dedicated to land and army.

“May I walk you home?” He suddenly offered.

Delena looked at him, her green eyes sparkling. But she kept her reserve and said nothing.

“I’ve kept you far too long, my Lady. Your father may be worrying so I take it as my duty to bring you home safely.”

The young woman couldn’t keep herself from smiling. “Duty?” But she stepped forward. “Then I won’t stand in the way of your duty.”

Astinos flinched a little. Duty always came in the way. But he held out a hand which with another smile she took.


	3. II

**II**

 

“Father, please.” Delena whispered when Dilios took her hands, his head hanging low.

“There is nothing I think I can do, precious. Not even the king could change that fate.” The fair haired man stroked his daughter’s long light brown hair. “But do not fear, nothing is decided yet.” His voice carried a deep sadness so that Delena couldn’t keep in the tears. She started to cry so that even brave and strong Dilios had to take in a few sharp breaths to calm himself down. He hated to see his daughter in such grave sorrow.

But yes, nothing was decided yet. But the Ephors had at last announced that they would soon take their new oracle. And Theron, spokesman of the council, had come to choose from the most beautiful virgin maiden of Sparta. It had been the day of her first encounter with Theron that her father brought home the worrying news that the spokesman of the council would supervise the trainings for the time being and also choose of the young women and girls from the city to show at the training hall near the king’s quarters. It had also been the day of Astinos walking her home from the dance routine. And now, nearly two weeks later, Theron had announced the initial stages of the selection of the new oracle.

That was why he had been watching the trainings so often lately. Her father Dilios, a close comrade of King Leonidas, had to watch helplessly when Theron looked very closely at the young women assembled in the great audience chamber. Delena had been one of them. All of them had to wear white robes and Dilios had flinched every time when Theron stepped in too close that he could almost touch his daughter. It had hurt the Spartan to see his daughter there, presented on stage like a piece of meat for sale.

It had happened quite often during the last years that the spokesman of the council chose the virgin oracles for the Ephors. Right now, nothing was decided yet. Theron had made a collective choice of four of the young women, Delena being one of them, and was – today – on his way to the hill on which the priests lived. Dilios had never seen them himself, but he had heard rumours, and so had Delena. The Ephors were mean creatures, men but no men at all, faithful but cruel.

The Spartan knew that his daughter was very frightened, even though she tried hard to hide it. She had always been strong, of heart and mind, as were his sons but he was worried about what was going to happen to her, in case the Ephors chose her. Dilios was a man true to his faith and he – as all the Spartans – believed in the oracle but taking away the only beauty of his life meant taking away life itself. Delena’s mother, his beloved wife had not survived the birth her last born son. Delena was all he had and that was why he was scared to lose her also. He knew very well that he could never argue against the decision of the Ephors. He was helpless. Delena had been his first-born, and even though he had always thought that he could never love a daughter so much, he had quickly changed his mind. Then his wife bore him 2 sons and died at giving birth of a third. The eldest son, Dosta, had already undergone the life-or-death training out in the wild while the second son, Dichos, had just been taken away. Dilios himself had gone through it and came back a better and stronger warrior.

Dilios always had a personal dislike towards Theron, so had his daughter. As long as possible, Dilios had tried to protect Delena from the political and religious struggle and had kept her away from the daily routine of the Spartans, but now he could do nothing more. To prepare her for life, he had taken her with him as often as possible when he had to meet with the king’s guard. But once, only this once this one day, she had crossed paths with the spokesman of the council. Dilios now blamed himself for not teaching her to always steer clear of priests and politicians. But it was too late now, or so Dilios had thought.

Delena tried to stay as calm as possible during the next few days, always aware of the changes that were going on around her. Her father was absentmindedly and ordered her to always stay close to the house when she was not doing her daily chores at the training halls. A few of the girls that had been chosen with her had already disappeared and everyone knew where to, although no one would have ever let slip any thought like that. Astinos, whenever allowed, spent time with her, accompanied her to the daily trainings, met her at the official dances and finally, admitted his feelings for her. She felt honoured that he would choose her because she had heard rumours of his father planning to choose the bride himself. It was only then Delena found out that she had been the choice all along. It had been some sort of understanding between Dilios, her father, and Astinos’ father Artemis.

She had tried to keep the news of the decision away from Astinos but his father, being King Leonidas’ right hand, had known about it from the very first day. But even though Astinos had learned about it, he did not show his very own concern. He was sure that Delena already had enough reason to be concerned. But deep within, he felt as if he would be losing something very important if the Ephors chose her. He should have never let himself feel so much for her, he realized now. But love was a strange thing, it came in the way whenever it felt necessary and it did not care about situations and circumstances.

Delena had thoughts of her own. She had never felt so close to anyone before, and even though it scared her a little, she knew that it was simply a normal reaction. But under the given circumstances she felt as if her life had been turned upside-down. The decision of the Ephors came closer and closer and every moment she spent with Artemis’ son made her feel as if finally, she could feel complete. She knew that to love a Spartan man meant to love a warrior and always be aware of the danger that lay ahead. Death was everywhere. She also knew that the Spartans were the best fighters with the best techniques but still, death awaited them all. But this fear made her realize that she really loved him, with all her heart. And that made her aware of what to do…

A few days later, Dilios returned from the King’s house and when he stepped through the door, he found his daughter sitting on the floor, crying, her face smeared with blood, her white robe stained with blood as well. He rushed over to her and pulled her up.

“What happened?” he said breathlessly. Delena flinched in his tight grip but it was only then when he saw the knife in her hand that he let her go.

“Child, what have you done?” He sank to his knees in front of her and embraced his daughter. “What have you done…” He cried, but suddenly he felt so relieved that he started to laugh hysterically. He pushed her back a little and put his hand against her bloody cheek. “What have you done, precious?”

Finally, Delena spoke up. “I wanted to save myself…”

Dilios looked at his daughter and smiled despite the tears. “You are a clever one, although I’m not sure if that helps your fate, but we will see.” He got back up on his two feet and pulled his daughter up with him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Dilios sent Demian for the healer and once the blood had been washed away, Dilios could finally see the wound that his daughter had inflicted upon herself to save herself from being chosen as the oracle by the Ephors. The cut went from just beneath her right eye across her cheek to her fine jaw line. But nonetheless, Dilios thought, she would be beautiful.

The healer now put a mixture of herbs and oil on the wound and carefully bandaged the cut with white linen.

“It won’t take long to heal but there will always be a scar…” she said and patted Delena’s shoulder with a thin and withered hand. The old healer did not ask where this wound came from but the look she gave the girl’s father, both knew that the healer knew. But Dilios was sure that she would not go around spreading these news.


	4. III

**III**

 

Delena stood at the front doorway of the old and empty festival building, looking out onto the stonework balcony where there was nothing except free winds tossing through a red coat and through strands of black hair. The young woman smiled slightly at the tall man standing a few paces away from her.

“I prayed you’d come…”

“Astinos!” Delena said quietly when she moved towards him, but he heard the unmistakable joy in her voice. The man took a few steps towards her and held out his hands. When their hands touched then, both looked deeply into each other’s eyes and smiled. But they could only restrain themselves for a short moment, then they fell into each other’s arms.

Then the black haired and brown eyes Spartan pushed her away a little, lifting one hand to caress her cheek, softly touching the scar that was still visible on her soft milky skin. And as every time, he sighed. He knew that she had to do it to save herself from the cruel fate that would have awaited her. But deep inside his heart, he felt that she had only done it to be able to stay here with him. It’s been only a few weeks since the incident, and the wound had healed well, the scar was still there. He had never asked her why she did it and he never would, that he had promised himself. He would never question her or any of her actions. All he could do was to hold her and be happy she was with him. And for that, he thanked the gods every single night. But he also knew that he could never return the kindness when they marched into war. And war was close.

From what he had heard from his father and his friend Stelios, a group of Persian messengers had arrived at Sparta to demand the submission of the city to Xerxes, the god-king. King Leonidas had made the fateful choice of facing the Persian Empire. The messengers did not return to Xerxes, for they were thrown into the deepest pit that there was in Sparta.

Apparantly, Leonidas had seen the Oracle but had returned without the good news he had been hoping for. The ephors had decided to interpret the Oracle’s message to mean that Sparta should not go to war, so as not to interrupt the sacred Carneian festival. This festival was one of the most important religious festivals, held in honour of Apollo Carneios and to ask for the blessing of a good harvest. According to tradition, the Spartan army was not allowed to leave their territory during this festival. The Spartan king was not permitted to lead any kind of military campaign or declare war, and all male citizens had to be purified. Because of this, the Athenians had to fight alone at Marathon. But this time, the Persian Empire and its armies were already at the city’s steps and Astinos knew the need of a quick and surprising strike of Sparta against the Persians.

It would not be for glory, not for the riches, neither for honour but for liberty alone that they would fight – and love. When this thought crossed his mind, he felt exactly like on the day of the choice that Delena made.

“I did not want to let the choice of the ephors make my destiny.” Delena said with a sharp edge to her voice when she felt his questioning and worrying glance upon her. “Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice, of my own choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved." She paused and glanced at Astinos. “I made my own destiny.” She had to pause again to catch her breath. “As will you…” A tear welled up in her eyes. Astinos pulled her close and reached up to her face to wipe away the tears. She had said the same thing on that day. Astinos had first been shocked to see the scar, but he could understand why she inflicted such a wound upon herself. To become the oracle was a special honour but it also meant to return a different person, if they were to return again at all. Deep in his heart, the Spartan was glad about the outcome even though he felt like it had been his doing. She had done this to be able to be with him and now both knew that Astinos would go to war with the King. And all he could do now was to hold her and give her some reassurance that her decision was right.

The carneian festival had not yet begun but the decoration works were already progressing. Soon this place would be crowded with celebrating people but Delena felt that not all of the Spartans would take part in it. She had seen the worry in Astinos' eyes and had tried to reassure him with saying that the ephors were greedy and selfish creatures. She herself had never believed in the ephors, but she had faith in the oracle. She did not doubt the message of the oracle but the interpretion of the ephors. It seemed so unlikely to her that the ones who depended most on Sparta and its wealth refused to give permission to the King to go to war.

Delena now rested her head against his chest and sighed. With one hand he held her close, the other brushed through her thick dark brown hair. Although the nearness of her had narrowed his attention very strongly, Astinos felt that he could see every tiny hair against her neck where they spilled free from the headdress, that he could count each shining dark strand in an instant without even trying, he also felt a little strange. It was a weird yearning that he had never felt before.

The evening sun slowly settled on the horizon and the red sky covered everything in a blurry haze of mystery. Delena stood very still, hardly breathing, not saying anything. She enjoyed his nearness, his warmth, his heartbeat as if she had never felt him so close before. He softly caressed her cheek, her chin, her shoulders, her arms. The girl began to shiver lightly under his touch and pressed closer into him when the night descended on both of them.


	5. Epilogue

**~ Epilogue ~**

The daylight was fading fast when Delena saw the Queen pass through the main road into the field of golden corn. The girl stepped out of the house as the sun slowly settled behind the hills. Delena knew that the Queen went out into the field every day but today, everything felt different. Carefully, not to raise any attention, she followed Gorgo into the reddening evening. She stopped a distance away from where the Queen stopped. And then she saw what the Queen saw. One single man had returned, one single man out of 300. His red coat was torn and hung loosely around his bruised body. Were they all dead? Delena felt fear clutching her heart and her knees almost gave way when she recognized who the man was. The fair hair was stained with blood and around his head he wore a bandage covering his left eye. She watched the man stop in front of the Queen with his head hanging low. He handed her something, a necklace of some sort. It must have been the King’s. The Queen turned away, holding herself upright, but her face gave away what pain she felt.

Delena stood, almost dumbfounded, when Gorgo walked past her. She could not even lower her gaze but the Queen did not seem to notice. All Delena could see was the man approaching her. In that moment she began to understand. All were dead, the King, the captain and…and Astinos. She began to shake uncontrollably and sank to the ground, both arms wrapped around her middle as if to keep herself warm. There was no feeling left in her, no fear, no tears, nothing. She was empty, she was lost. All that was left was the growing seed of Astinos inside her. That was all that remained. His line would live on. He would live on.

She felt the warm touch of a familiar hand on her shoulders, pulling her up and into a long missed embrace.

“Father…” she whispered and drew herself against him. “You have returned…” She didn’t ask the many questions that were on her mind, all the questions that burned in her heart. She did not ask where the King was, or where her beloved Astinos was. She knew they were dead, she knew that it was only Dilios who had survived. And for that, she was thankful.

Dilios touched her cheek and kissed her gently on the forehead, then he turned towards the city of Sparta.

“There are more wars to fight. We have to prepare…” he said and squeezed her hand. “Come, daughter…” He smiled. “…woman of Sparta, we will make safe the city, for the King, for the Spartan sons, for the families, for you and for your unborn child.” He looked at her sternly, but the sorrow was clearly visible on his face. “We can win.”

“We will win!” Delena said while she stepped out. “We will win. History will tell that on this day, few stood against many, and still succeeded.”

Few stood against many, Spartans against Persians, men against men. They fought, they died, defending their country, their homes, their families, their love and history will tell.

 

~ La Fin ~


End file.
